


I am the Storm

by MyssMyssy



Category: Sherlock (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Demons, F/M, Implied/Referenced Drug Use
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-07-16 18:16:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7278637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyssMyssy/pseuds/MyssMyssy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tempest Reagan came to London to get her head straight. Loving a hunter isn't easy. Especially when that hunter is a Winchester.  Moving into 221B Baker St may have been worse. Sherlock Holmes bring a whole nother set of problems especially when demons come a knocking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was true I was running away. I had come to London for one reason. I had to get away, or lose my mind. I was never going to find happiness with Sam not as long as there was Dean. Not as long as there were monsters to hunt. True I was a hunter myself but i just couldn’t do it anymore. 

That is how I found myself standing outside of 221B Baker St. I had gotten reliable information that a Mrs. Hudson had a flat (that is what they called apartments in London) for rent. I was greeted at the front door by a cheerful if a bit nervous, older lady who ushered me inside.

“Come in dearie. Right  this way. You must be Tempest. I’m Mrs. Hudson.” She chattered amicably. 

I smiled, “Yes, indeed. Nice to meet you.”

Suddenly a loud bang echoed through the whole house, startling both of us. Mrs. Hudson screamed in alarm. We both raced up the steps to see what had caused such a commotion. 

I was greeted by an unusual sight. There standing in the middle of the flat a tall dark haired man stood in some kind of robe holding a gun, that he had just fired at the wall.

“Sherlock what in the bloody hell are you doing?” Mrs. Hudson yelled. “You are going to frighten the new tenant.”

“New tenant? Since when did you get a new tenant? Why was I not informed of this? Who are you?” 

“Tempest Reagan.”

The man looked me up and down for a moment. “American? Kansas or Nebraska?”

I was a little taken back. “What do you mean?”

“Where are you from Kansas or Nebraska?” He cocked his head to the side.

“Nebraska, but how did you know?”

“Simple deduction.  Just like I deduced by the way you walked into the room you are not simply on holiday. Miss Tempest Reagan you say? Not the only name you go by. I would say that sometime in the last week you were in a hell of a row. Not a domestic either. “

Mrs. Hudson looked as if she were about to fall over, “Sherlock!”

I was a bit taken by surprise. “Really? You can see all that just by my walk into the room?”

“Yes and much more. I am after all the worlds only consulting detective. I am Sherlock Holmes. Welcome to 221B Baker St. Miss Tempest Reagan."

 


	2. Chapter 2

I had lived at Baker St for 2 weeks getting to know Sherlock, Mrs. Hudson, and finally John Watson. I was fortunate to have an inheritance to live off of for a while so I didn’t need an income for now. I just needed to find things to occupy my time. This was a great challenge. 

After I had gotten my flat arranged to my liking my wanderlust kicked in. I was not used to being cooped up in one place at any given moment. Hunting you were always on the move. It was always best to keep things going. Things tended to get messy if you stayed too long. Maybe I should have stuck with that plan.

I was heading out when I was caught by the sound of violin music drawing me up the stairs.  Whoever was playing, it was beautiful. I couldn’t help but be drawn towards the sound. I was shocked to see Sherlock standing by the window raptly playing on his violin. It was almost as if the world did not exist outside of that moment. He was an ethereal angel.

“Can I do something for you Miss Tempest Reagan?” He spoke and the mood was broken. Once again he was the world’s only consulting detective and I was the interloping American.

“I’m sorry. I was just listening to you play. It was very nice. I am sorry to have bothered you.”

“Tell me Miss Tempest Reagan what are you really doing here?” Sherlock turned and peered into my eyes with his mesmerizing aqua eyes.

I leaned my head to the side and responded, “You should know. You already deduced everything there is to know about me.”

“Quite so.” He said and picked up his bow, turning around abruptly and began to play stormily.

I took this as our conversation was over and I left the detective to his brooding. I wondered what that had been all about. I could not understand why he had unnerved me so much. Sam was the only other man that had ever seemed to get much of a reaction. 

The thought of Sam’s boyish good looks and puppy dog eyes compared to Sherlock’s cold intelligence. What did I have for unavailable men?

 


	3. Chapter 3

“So he took it pretty hard did he?” I ask dejectedly into the phone.

“Uh… yeah. What did you expect. One minute you two were cool  and the next you were taking off for parts unknown. What the hell Tempest?” Dean’s voice accused. 

I sighed heavily. I knew he was right.  I was being a total coward. 

“I’m sorry. I just couldn’t take it anymore. I just can't watch him do it anymore. I get it you two have to do what you do and this is what I have to do.”

Dean breathed heavily into the phone, “I guess. So tell me more about this douchebag neighbor of yours. What's his name? Sherlock?”

“Oh Dean, he would drive you nuts. He carries on at all hours. He drives the whole neighborhood crazy. He can tell you everything there is to know about a person at a glance.  He is a consulting detective. I have no idea what the hell that is. He certainly is fascinating.”

Dean chuckle, “Sounds like Sammy might have some competition.”

“Umm… no. I don`t think that will ever be a problem.”

Suddenly there was a knock on my door. I excused myself from Dean’s teasing and rose to answer it. I was met by John Watson’s smiling face.

“Good evening Tempest. Sherlock sent me down to ask if you would like to join us for dinner.”

“I… uh,” I stammered, “Uh… sure, I guess.”

I realized I was wearing my ratty Matchbox Twenty tee-shirt  and baggy sweats. “Let me change into something more appropriate. “

John nodded and replied cheerfully, “No hurry. Sherlock us still cooking. He made an awful lot of food. For the life of me I had no idea the man could even cook. I’ll see you in a bit ya?”

I couldn’t help but smile. John was a really nice guy. What he was doing as Sherlock’s flatmate was beyond me. 

I pulled a nice sweater and my favorite jeans. I really didn’t have anything much dressier. I was always on the road so jeans was pretty much standard for me. Maybe if I  stayed here for a while I would actually get some decent clothes.

Sherlock was standing at the stove stirring something vigorously looking a little consternated.

“What’s wrong? Has the world’s only consulting detective met his match in the kitchen?” I couldn’t resist giving him a hard time.

He turned to me with a look of annoyance , “It appears this gravy does not wish to come out correctly.”

I could not help myself and I giggled a little. “Oh dear, let me see what you have there.”

I walked over and surveyed what he had in front of him. Apparently he had been trying to make some sort of steak and gravy mess.

“Let me guess you tried chicken fried steak?”

“Yeah well I heard you Americans loved it and I thought I would give it a go. Um… I don’t see how you could possibly eat such a thing.”

I laughed harder, “Oh, Sherlock, you are quite hilarious. I think we need to throw this whole thing out and lets just order something.”

John came into the room, “So when is dinner?”

I looked at Sherlock and he looked at me and we both laughed as John took in the pan Sherlock held. He rolled his eyes. 

“I knew I couldn’t trust you with the cooking. I guess it will be takeaway tonight?”

In the end we ordered something Chinese. It was a little different from the stuff I was used to  scarfing down with the boys after a hunt. It was rather nice to be able to sit and talk with someone over a meal and not talk about monsters for once.

“You never did tell us Tempest what is it that you do for a living?” John asked.

I sighed, “Right now nothing. I am living off an inheritance I received a while back. Right now I am looking for something to do. I am not used to not doing anything. It is driving me crazy.”

“What did you do when you were in America?” 

I shifted uncomfortably. I couldn’t exactly tell them I hunted monsters and demons. “I was in pest control.”

“No you weren’t.” Sherlock piped in. 

“Sherlock take the day off.” John warned.

“I am just saying she is lying to you. She wasn’t in ‘pest control’. Whatever she was doing she doesn’t want us to know what it was. It appears our Miss Tempest Reagan has a few secrets.”

I faced Sherlock looking him dead in those mesmerizing eyes, “Don’t we all? Just look at yourself. I learned a few things about deducing myself over the years.”

“Please enlighten us, if you will.” Sherlock challenged.

“Gladly!” I began, “You my dear Sherlock are an addict. I may not know what your exact drug of choice is but you are a junkie.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

It would be another two weeks after the dinner that my paths would cross with Sherlock once again I got the feeling after my ‘deduction’, I was someone to be avoided. I had been right though. That much I had known. I had known one other addict. Only he had been addicted to demon blood.

I was enjoying an early morning cup of coffee when I was startled by a furtive knock on my door. It was once again John.

“Listen can you help me out. Sherlock needs some assistance. I have to run to the surgery but he has a case. Just sit and listen. He has a case. Please?”

I rolled my eyes. “Are you sure he wants me to help out after our disastrous dinner?”

“Oh he’s fine with that. Just go and help. I have to pop off.”

He was gone in a flash. I guess I hadn’t much of a choice. So I finished the last of my coffee and padded up the stairs. 

Sherlock was pacing and muttering. Occasionally he stopped and mussed his  hair. I sat down on the couch eyeing the Tableau with curiosity. He was truly fascinating.

“Two bodies. They seemed to have killed each other. But why? Why Sulphur? Doesn’t make sense.”

My ear was caught at Sulphur. Immediately my first thought was demons. My hunter instincts kicked in.

“Tell me were the families and friends of these people interviewed?” I asked invading his musings.

He looked at me for the first time since I entered the room. “Yes. Why?”

“Had they been acting different in the days leading up to the incident?”

“There were reports of unusual behavior. Bizarre behavior. But how did you know?”

“Just a hunch. I have a feeling things got a little more interesting here. Will you excuse me I have to make a phone call.”

I rushed out of the room and slammed the door to my own flat. I pulled out my cell and quickly dialed the boys. I knew they would probably be asleep but I had to get a hold  of them.

“This better be good.” Dean’s  tired voice told me that he had not been sleeping but had been intending to.

“Hey Dean, its Tempest. I hate to bug you but we have  a demon problem here. Their possessing and ganking locals. Sherlock’s on the case but he isn’t a hunter. Can you work on any contacts in London?”

“Temp I will see what I can do. Will you do me favor? Call Sam. Tell him you are ok. Tell him something. Anything. Just talk to him please.”

“Dean, it’s complicated. I don’t know what to say.” I whispered into the phone.

Dean shifted the phone around, “It doesn’t have to be.”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Okay well. I will see what I can do. So just stay out if trouble and be good.”

I hung up with Dean feeling a little lost. I miss those two. Tooling around in that Impala of theirs. Hunting and doing research with Sam. Watching Game of Thrones while snuggling in the bunker. That was the best. I even missed awkward Cas and all of his angelness. 

I never really had a family. I grew up a hunter and that was all I ever knew. Now I was trying to put that in the past but with demons showing their heads in London, maybe it was time to strap on again.

“Hello Tempest. Sam asked me to find you.” 

I jumped as the angel Castiel appeared. 

 


	5. Chapter 5

“Oh great just what I need. An angel checking up on me.”

Cas cocked his head to the side and smiled. “He is concerned about you. He has feelings for you. You have feelings for him too.”

“Feelings were never our problem Cas.”

“I will never quite understand human beings and their relationships.”

Before I could say anything else we were interrupted by a knock on my door. I opened it to find Sherlock standing with a look of question on his face. 

“Why did you ask those questions? What did you notice that I did not?”

“I uh…just thought… uh… you know what. Never mind. Just forget I said anything.” I tried to backpedal as gracefully as possible.

“Is everything okay?” Cas asked coming up behind me.

Sherlock looked a little surprised, “I was not aware you had a guest.”

“Sherlock Holmes this is my friend Castiel.  Cas meet the world’s only consulting detective.”

Cas peered at the man in his unnerving way. Sherlock was squinting at him trying his best to deduce him but was finding it difficult to figure out this angel of the lord. If I had not been so uncomfortable I would have laughed.

“Now Cas has to go.” I grabbed his arm and tried to lead him out of the flat past Sherlock.

“I do?”

“Yes, yes you do. Now please go and tell Sam I am fine. I will call him when I can.”

“He just worries about you.”

“Goodbye Cas.”

“I don’t see why I have to go out there.”

“Cas,” I whispered in his ear, “Go around the corner and disappear I don’t want Sherlock to know you are an angel.  Got it. He doesn’t know anything about angels, demons, monsters, or hunters and I would like to keep it that way.”

Cas nodded, “Okay, I understand.”

In seconds he was gone and I was left standing in the hall with Sherlock. He looked somewhat amused.

“That man who was he? Why could I not get a good read on him? It was like there was nothing there. It was like he wasn’t even human. Strange. There is much to find out about you Miss Tempest Reagan. Who is Sam and why is he so worried about you? I must say since the moment we met you intrigue me.”

I looked up at him sighing feeling a little weary, “I am nothing special.”

“Now why do I not believe that to be true Miss Tempest Reagan?”

“I am just a girl trying to find my way. Surely your deductive skills could tell you that much.”

“Just so.” He said, “But there is so much more. I will get to the bottom of this.”

“I am not a puzzle for you to figure out. I am not some great mystery. Geez Sherlock, just leave it alone.” I turned and slammed my door on his face leaving him standing in the hallway.

I was feeling a little flustered. First Cas’s impromptu visit, at Sam’s insistence nonetheless. Now demons were showing their ugly faces around town. I guess maybe my days as a hunter weren’t exactly over. Now I had to figure out how to find hunters here in merry old England.

 


	6. Chapter 6

As circumstances would have it my quiet existence would not stay so. A couple of days after my dust up with Sherlock and Cas Dean informed me he had it on good authority that there was a hunter in my area by the name of Charles Darkwood. He was an old contact of Bobby’s. He gave me some contact information and once again pleaded with me to at least talk to Sam. I assured him I would in my own time. 

Fortunately Charles Darkwood was still at his contact number. He picked up on the second ring.

“’Ello?” His gruff voice came across the line.

“Good morning Mr. Darkwood. You don’t know me but I think you and I have something in common.”

“Who is this? What do you want?”

“Do you remember Bobby Singer?”

“Oi, yeah how is that wanker? I haven’t heard from him in ages.”

“Regretfully he passed away awhile back.”

“Damn! I ‘spose damn demons got ‘em in the end.” 

“Actually leviathan. Nasty sucker. Shot him on the head.”

“Guess the old man lived longer than most. God rest his soul. Something tells me you called for more than just telling me about Bobby’s demise.”

“Yeah, well. I think I caught a case so I figure I would pass it only to local hunters. Looks like a couple of demons on the lose. Dropped two bodies so far.”

“Oh yeah? Hmm… ain’t been on a good one in an age. Me nephews been taking up the slack since last April. Got me a bum knee. I’ll pass it on to Henry. What’s your name?”

“Uh, Tempest Reagan. You can find me at 221b Baker St. I will be happy to offer any assistance.”

“Yeah sure, I’ll send him by for the details.”

“Sounds great. When do you think I can expect him?”

“Uh…I’ll send him tomorrow morning.”

“It’s a date. Thanks.”

I hung up with a sudden sensation of foreboding. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to agree to meet with a stranger so quickly at my personal address. There was after all reasons why hunters didn’t always trust other hunters. We weren’t known to be paragons of virtue. Then again I also could have just been feeling a little bit paranoid.

First things first. I had to get more information about alleged demon attacks from Sherlock. This was not going to be easy. He was very shrewd and was going to see directly through any kind of subterfuge I could possibly come up with to get information from him with. My best bet was going to have to be complete honesty. Up to a point that is.

I waited for the right moment, when John or Mrs. Hudson was not present. I took special care to look particularly nice. I approached Sherlock with an air of interest.

“Still working on your case?”

He looked up from the paper he had been reading and blinked at me, “Why yes, Miss Tempest Reagan. I am very busy. What can I help you with?”

I smiled at him coyly, “I thought maybe I could try helping you out again. I am really fascinated by it and would like to hear more about it.”

I sat down on the edge of the couch with no intention of budging until I got the information that I requested. Sherlock sighed.

“You certainly are a very intriguing individual. What is it about this case that has got you so interested?”

“I must admit I am very curious about the circumstances and I would love to see a great detective at work.” I mentally patted my back at the use of flattery. 

“Hmm…yes” he began pacing, “I can tell you that this one is bloody strange. So I inform you now if you do know anything is best to say now.”

I crossed my legs and gave him my best innocent smile, “I assure you I know nothing that could possibly help you.”

“Yes, why do I not truly believe you?”

I continued to smile sweetly. “Let’s just talk about the case.”

He nodded graciously and launched into a detailed description if the crimes. I mentally noted specifics like names and addresses that may have been mentioned. It was definitely a demon attack.  There was no doubt about it. From what I gathered somewhere these two were jumped and were made to play some version of Russian Roulette or something. I was left wondering why the demons would do such a thing. Then again really when did a demon need a reason to cause death and destruction to anything human.

It was late into the night when our discussion of the case finally wrapped up. I had begun to fall asleep although Sherlock seemed to be only growing in energy. At one point my eyes slid shut and I actually found myself snoring in his couch. I actually awoke to find a quilt tucked around me and Sherlock standing by the window as the sun was coming up over London.

“Oh dear! Did I really sleep here all night?” I sat up with a start causing him to turn abruptly.

“Good morning Miss Tempest Reagan. I felt it was best to leave you were you were. You appeared to be quite exhausted.”

“I appreciate your kindness.”

“Nonsense.  It wasn’t kindness. I did not want to risk another one of your tirades.”

“Ah, I see. Well then that is my queue. I bid you good morning and I must go. I am meeting ah… a… an associate this morning.”

 


	7. Chapter 7

I had just enough time to make myself presentable before there was a knock at my door. When I answered I was greeted by a handsome young man who seemed a little bewildered.

“The man who answered the door told me to come right in. I am Henry Darkwood.”

I smiled warmly, “Great! Come on in. I was just going to have some coffee.”

“Good I could use a cup.”

I let him in and led him to the couch,  where he sat looking rather uncomfortable. It was a cold, blustery day and I swear I could see fine beads of perspiration on his face. 

Hunters as a rule don’t often trust other hunters. Sam, Dean, and Bobby were exceptions for me. They would lay down their lives for me and I for them. But I was getting a gut feeling something was not right about this one. I could not put my finger on what was hinky, but there was something off.

“My uncle informed me that there is a demon problem around here. What’s the deal?” he asked fidgeting a little.

“Uh yeah. Looks like doozy I must say.”

I  handed him the file I had helped myself to when Sherlock had not been paying attention. I filled him in on as much detail as I had gotten out of the detective.

“So you see, I think Mr. Darkwood, it is pretty clear cut demon possession and can be taken care of pretty easily.”

“Yes I suppose you are right about that, and call me Henry, Tempest. After all I am going to kill you.”

With that Henry revealed eyes black as night. I grabbed a bottle of holy water I had stashed under the coffee table and threw it in to the face of the abomination. He flinched. Steam rising up from his flayed skin. I flipped over the sofa onto the balls of my feet ready to strike out as the demon struck out blindly. We struggled knocking over furniture. I knew I was making a helacious racket. It was only a matter of time before someone, meaning Sherlock, came and investigated what was going on. I had to act fast. I began the exorcism. Luckily Sam made me memorize the damn thing.

I proclaimed the last of the exorcism and sent his ass to hell when my door burst open and Sherlock entered gun in hand. 

“What in the hell is going on in here?” He asked.

I ran to him wrapping my arms around his neck, “Oh dear, God.”

He put his arms around me in a protective gesture taking in the body of Henry lying on the floor and the broken furniture. I had no idea what he was thinking, I was just relieved he had not seen the exorcism or what proceeded. My heart was beating a million miles a minute and I just knew my face was a bit flushed.

It took quite a bit of explaining a few minutes later when Lestrade and Donavan were crawling around my flat removing Henry and why there was a dead body in my living room.  I explained we were acquaintances through mutual friends and for some unexplained reason he attacked me and I defended myself. Sherlock backed my story up as much as he witnessed. It was through Sherlock’s insistence that it was self defense did Lestrade finally let it go with the promise of more questioning later.

John volunteered to help put my flat to rights. The coffee table was a goner but most of the rest of the furniture could be righted. My favorite lamp was also smashed to bits.

“I don’t know what the hell happened here, but you have to be careful who you let in.” John said as he swept up the broken remains of my lamp.

“Yeah well, let’s just say it was a total shock that such an event occurred. I was assured that the man I was meeting with was a good guy. I guess you don’t know everybody.”

“Yeah, I guess you don’t”

Sherlock decided to join us, “Henry Darkwood, he was a rather strange man. Known for his “darker” associations. Not quite a criminal, but only because he was never caught. Under suspicion for many nepharious deeds. What was he doing here?”

I became very interested in the task I was occupied at, “It was personal.”

“Did it have anything to do with the file that you stole from me or the information you got from me yesterday?” Sherlock asked.

“I don’t know what you are talking about. I was merely interested in your case. I thought I could help you figure things out.” 

“Why do I only get more questions from your answers? There is so much you are not telling me. I will find put what you are holding back. I am Sherlock Holmes and I find answers.”

“Get out please!” I had had enough. It was time for him to go.

“Miss Tempest Reagan, I will find out what is going on.”

“Just leave. I’ve got a lot of clean up to do and right now and you are pissing me off. Now go away.”

Sherlock grabbed John and stalked put the door. I slammed the door behind him. He was treading on dangerous ground and I was not about to let him in on the whole monsters are real scenario. Something told me there would be a call to the lunatic asylum.

While I was cleaning my phone rang. I sighed as the familiar number flashed at me.

“Hello Dean.”

“Hey Tempy.” It was Sam’s voice not Dean’s that greeted me.

“Sam how’s it going?”

“I could ask the same of you. Dean and Cas tell me you have a demon problem there in London. So you hunting again?”

“Umm…no. I was going to hand it off to this Darkwood hunter who sent his nephew. Unfortunately he turned out to be a demon. Good thing you taught me that damn exorcism. Almost got walked in by my upstairs neighbor. A detective. He’s the one I got the heads-up on the case from. He doesn’t know what it is though.”

“Great! Are you ok? Did it attack you? How the hell did a hunter let himself get possessed?”

“I don’t know, but I think I am going to have to handle this one. I really don’t know what is going on,”

“Listen, Tempest, I want you to be careful. I don’t know what happened. I don’t know why you left, but I want you to know I am here for you.”

“Hey it’s ok. I know. I gotta go. Tell Dean and Cas hi. Talk to you later.”

I hung up the phone sadly. There was so much I wanted to say to Sam, but pride would not let me utter a word. How could you tell someone they mean the world to you but know that you will never be able to be together because of how things are. Reality sucks.

 


	8. Chapter 8

The one thing I hated about being a hunter was the fact the fact you did the job and you shut up about it. It never did anyone any good for you to sit around and talk about what it 8s you had to do to get by day after day getting rid of these abominations. I really wanted to tell Sherlock what was really going on, but my need to protect him and myself was stronger. Damn I really hated the job sometimes.

It took a while, but I finally got my flat put back together. Unfortunately, I lost a few of my precious collectables along the way. It was looking for some superglue that found me up looking for the landlady, or Sherlock, or even John for that matter.

What I did find was Sherlock playing a sweet tune on his violin. I marveled at how such an abrasive man could coax such beautiful haunting melodies out of the stringed instrument. It made me long for my guitar. I thought how funny was that, he could make me want to do something I had not wanted to do in years? What an intriguing man he was turning out to be. Not to mention I did think that he was a bit on the attractive side. I was definitely physically attracted to him.

“Get it together Tempest Reagan. You can not be seriously getting the hots for your freaking know-it-all neighbor.” I whispered to myself harshly.

The last thing I needed was to develop “feelings”, for another unavailable man. Not when there was so much water still under the bridge with Sam.

“You know you van come in. You don’t have to lurk in the hallway all evening Miss Tempest Reagan.” Sherlock’s voice injected 8nto my thoughts after I had failed to realize that the music had stopped.

I cursed softly to myself and entered the room, where Sherlock had since changed from his suit into a dressing gown. His hair was mussed and he looked ready to go to bed, but I knew night was when he thought the best so I knew sleep, if at all was a long way off for him.

“Sherlock, I wanted to tell you thank you for helping me out with the whole Henry thing. I think Lestrade really wanted to arrest me for that whole mess.”

“Yes, you are welcome. I could tell that from the moment I entered your flat that it had been self defense. It would have done no one any good to have arrested you.”

I sat down on the couch watching him closely as he held the violin. I couldn’t tell if I wanted to hear him, play more or to put the damn thing down and to come over and kiss me. 

“I’m sorry you think I am not being honest with you.” I said sincerely, “I am telling you everything I can possibly tell you.”

“I am sure that that is true,” he said, “but there is still much that you are not telling me.”

I searched his face for a moment and then rolled my eyes, “Not everything is a puzzle for you to figure out. Not everything is a mystery. I am certainly not.”

“You really think that lowly of yourself?” he asked taking my eye rolling for the self defense mechanism that it was.

I acted all innocent, “I do not know what you mean.”

“What I mean is,” he came over getting down into my face, “is that you walk around here all the time like you are somehow above all of it.”

I met his unnerving gaze, “I assure you, I am no such thing.”

“How many people are attacked in their flats by random people and seemingly nonplussed by the whole experience.” Sherlock was about to say more but it was that moment Mrs. Hudson chose to burst in on them.

“Oh dear, Sherlock have you heard the doorbell? It has been ringing for the last 15 minutes.”

“That’s what that annoying sound was. I thought it was the telly or something.” Sherlock answered.

I rolled my eyes at Mrs. Hudson.     

“These two gentleman were looking for Tempest.” To my shock Mrs. Hudson led in Sam and Dean Winchester.

“What in the hell are you two doing here?”

 


End file.
